


Happy Birthday

by BicMomma



Series: Shades of Green [10]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Angst, Desperation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:12:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9293846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BicMomma/pseuds/BicMomma
Summary: Memories from long ago haunt a father who lost his way. Will the greatest taboo bring back what was lost or bring tragedy? Will he really love his son.... no matter what?





	

_"Father? Where do people go when they die?"_

_"Well, some say they return to where all life began, a gate, full of mysteries and answers untold."_

_"What does it look like?"_

The father chuckles at his son and playfully ruffles his blond hair,  _"Its appearance is unique to each individual. One may say the gate is the jaws of a monster. To another person, the lips of an angel."_

_"But, there are others who say that when a person dies they go to a beautiful place where there are streets and mansions made of gold. There, the sky is like bright jewels and the air is sweetened with the scent of flowers. But they can go only if they're worthy."_

_"Am I worthy enough to go there?"_  the son asked his father.

_"Oh yes, my son."_  He replied.  _"You are."_

Years later the father would recall the conversation as he watched his only child, his beloved son being lowered into the ground. Tears welled up in his eyes but refused to fall as dirt was piled over the simple grave.

"How prophetic you would ask me such a question." The father whispered. "Did you know at that young age you would never live to see adulthood?"

More tears threatened to fall but the tangled dam he built out of anger, resentment and sheer will held them at bay.

"Is the reason you asked was to know if the agony you felt would follow you beyond death?"

The minister began to say something to the gathered crowd. Words that were meant to bring the father and grieving mother peace only sounded empty to his ears. What loving and all powerful God would allow a young man, still just a boy, to die in such a horrific way? What God would rip a child from his parents' arms by painful bloody increments?

He demanded to know the answer to his questions on fate and death. He would have screamed in helpless fury but the grief mad grip on his arm held his voice hostage. She needed him to be the strong one now that their son was gone.

So he stood solemn and silent as the grave was filled.

He longed to turn back time and correct all the mistakes he made. Discipline his son better so that he would listen when his father told him not to do something...like playing around with his mother's mercury filled mirrors.

But mostly, he wanted his son back. He  _needed_  his son back with a passion bordering on madness. Since his passing, fights occurring between the boy's parents occurred more and more often.

Resentment was building between them and the father was beginning to realize the woman who bore his beloved son had nothing in common with him. His quest for the Philosopher's Stone was merely for the sake of knowledge. Hers was for the power it would bring. He cared not for the finery and servants their skills procured while she lived for both. The sole reason they had stayed together for eighteen years, the father discovered, was their son.

The minister said more hollow words and the father raised his eyes from the completed grave up to the sky. Dark gray clouds gripped the sky as Death's icy hold held sway over his child. The sun's warm light, like his bright shining son, was denied existence and left the world bleak and empty.

It was then the father made his decision. That moment as he left his son's dead remains behind with his lover painfully gripping his arm, he decided to undo the Fates' mistake. The father would re-thread his son's lifeline back into the tapestry of the gods.

_He would resurrect his son._

Though it was taboo, he knew he would do this. He would not be like Orpheus and allow doubt to creep into his mind. Laws had no meaning when one's entire world—  _his son, his shining light_ —was shattered.

The father  _knew_  it was within his power. He had all the supplies he would need.

_35 liters of water_

_25 kilograms of carbon_

_4 liters of ammonia_

_1.5 kilograms of lime_

_800 grams of phosphorus_

_250 grams of salt_

_100 grams of saltpeter_

_80 grams of sulfur_

_7.5 grams of fluorine_

_5 grams of iron_

_3 grams of silicon and little bits of 15 other elements._

He could return the light to his shattered world. He could piece back the shards of his relationship with his lover. He could bring back his son! Everything would be restored. All would be right. Peaceful.  _Normal_.

Inside his empty lavish home, the father raced down into his laboratory immediately. He ignored his lover's voice, her screams of indignity, her pleading. His mission firm in his mind, the father gathered all the ingredients for his son's revival and cast them into a cauldron of life.

The arrays were harder to produce. He carelessly flipped through ancient tomes and tossed them heartlessly behind him until the knowledge he sought was before him. With loving desperate strokes, the father sketched the arrays beneath the container and took a moment to rest.

His heartbreak would end finally. Death would no longer hold sway. His son was within his grasp. The father activated the array…

The Gate was truly a mysterious entity. With its ancient drawing and unsettling statuettes of angels grasping a child, the father felt awed. The single most powerful object in the world stood innocently before him. It breathed but sat dead in front of him…but not for long

When its doors opened and he was cruelly gripped by a thousand shadowy hands, the father felt fear. Those greedy hands were attached to grinning Machiavellian creatures that glutted themselves on the hopes of those foolish enough to wish for a miracle. They lusted for everything a person had to offer, something that they could never be. The children of the Gate envied the prideful father and they wanted him to taste their wrath.

The father was spat out of the Gate bloodied and missing portions of himself. His body was in such pain but it didn't matter! Inside the cauldron, he heard life. A gasping breath, the clunk of movement. His son!

He dragged his dying body toward the container, hope in his heart. He didn't need his Philosopher's Stone to perform this miracle. He was powerful enough to resurrect his beloved son with his own abilities. He crawled toward the sign of his power and managed to tip the heavy iron over.

Hope turned to horror.

His brain refused to allow him to see the full monstrosity his arrogance had created. Only portions were comprehended. An exposed chest cavity. Lidless sunken in eyes likened that to the thousands of plague victims the father once sacrificed. Black blood.

His body severely injured, abomination before him, the father's mind did the only thing it could do under the circumstances. It simply shut down.

He awoke days later in a clean bed and in a new healthy body. Gone was his blond hair, replaced by light brown. Gone were his self-inflicted injuries but the scars of his failure remained.

He left days later with his half of the Philosopher's Stone. There was nothing left for him there in that home of meaningless opulence. His son was gone. Any affection he might have felt for his lover was gone.

The father couldn't even get the nerve to even destroy the monster he created in his desperation. It was all he had left of his beloved child, that hideously sinful thing. So he left it, shivering and alone in the basement.

_"_ _Father, will you always love me?"_

_"Of course."_

_"No matter what?"_

_"No matter what, son."_

 


End file.
